


It May Be a Thing

by accordingtomel



Series: Mating Games (2014) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1825801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accordingtomel/pseuds/accordingtomel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t think anything of it.</p><p>He’s studying with Scott for finals, grateful that for the first time in years, this is literally the most stressful situation he has to deal with, and it’s glorious.</p><p>Then Scott lifts his head and sniffs at the air for at least the fifth time that hour.</p><p>Stiles finally breaks. “Dude, seriously, what are you doing?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It May Be a Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for Week #2 of the Mating Games: Teen Wolf Pornathon on LJ. 
> 
> The theme was: The Beast Within

The first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t think anything of it.

He’s studying with Scott for finals, grateful that for the first time in years, this is literally the most stressful situation he has to deal with, and it’s glorious.

Then Scott lifts his head and sniffs at the air for at least the fifth time that hour.

Stiles finally breaks. “Dude, seriously, what are you doing?”

“Why do you smell like Derek?”

“Oh, I crashed at his place last night doing research, and he lent me a shirt this morning.” Stiles shrugs and tries to resist the urge to rub his face all over it. Seriously, it’s so soft.

Scott stares at him for a moment before shrugging, and it’s forgotten.

~*~

Stiles leaves for college a week before classes are due to start. Scott and his dad help out a lot, but surprisingly, Derek’s there the most, packing everything with delicate care.

The night before he leaves, though, Derek does something even more unexpected. He hugs Stiles.

“Have to work tomorrow, sorry,” Derek mutters into Stiles’ neck, like they do this regularly.

Berkeley is only a few hours away, but the hug is nice, and Derek’s scruff is surprisingly soft as he rubs it against Stiles’ neck, so he isn’t complaining.

It isn’t until Stiles unpacks later that he realizes Derek slipped his soft red henley into one of the boxes, and he smiles affectionately.

~*~

“So, is there something you wanna tell me?” Mason, Stiles’ new college roommate, asks a few weeks into the semester.

“Um…no?”

“I didn’t know you were dating a werewolf.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows, glancing up from his textbook. “What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend. You know, the guy with the dark hair and beard, wears a leather jacket?”

“ _Derek_?”

Mason’s lips pull down into a frown. “You’re not dating him?”

“No!”

“But...why does the whole room reek? It smells like he symbolically pissed everywhere. It’s gross.”

“Oh.” Also, ew…but more importantly, _interesting_.

Mason gives him a significant look which Stiles manfully ignores.

~*~

“Are you scent-marking me?”

Derek’s head shoots up, eyes narrowed and suspicious, but Stiles knows better. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

A moment of silence passes, and then, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Stiles says, goes back to eating.

~*~

Four days later, Stiles’ history class lets out early, which gives him a prime opportunity for a quick jerk-off session and maybe a nap before his evening class.

Which would be great if there wasn’t a werewolf asleep in his bed. Stiles stares at Derek for a minute, first to make sure he’s still actually breathing, then to decide what to do about this.

It doesn’t take long.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Stiles grumbles, climbing into the bed on top of Derek. Before he can talk himself out of it, he leans forward, kissing Derek. It takes Derek a moment to fully wake up, and Stiles starts to fear for his life, when Derek’s hands frame his face, pulling him back down.

~*~

“Jesus fuck,” Stiles gasps out as Derek thrusts into him, brushing against his prostate.

Derek hovers over him, arms braced on either side of his head as he sucks at the bruise on Stiles’ neck like it might fade some time this decade. Stiles’ fingers trail up and down Derek’s back, into his hair, cup his ass, desperate to touch every inch of skin he can get his hands on.

Derek pulls away from his neck, scraping his teeth against the underside of Stiles’ jaw. His thrusts are getting more erratic now, fucking Stiles with abandon. It’s a wonder they haven’t broken Stiles’ crappy dorm bed yet. Stiles tugs at Derek’s hair, slotting their mouths together as he rocks his hips into Derek. His cock is hard, dripping with precome, the only friction an occasional brush against Derek’s stomach.

Reaching down, Stiles takes himself in hand and starts stroking. It feels amazing with Derek inside him, until suddenly he stops, pulls out, and starts jerking off himself. It only takes a couple pulls of his dick before Derek’s coming with a soft moan, spurting across Stiles’ stomach and chest. The sight is enough to send Stiles over the edge, too. He reaches up, drags Derek down for a searing kiss, before Derek spoons up beside him in the bed, fingers trailing through the now-drying come on his stomach.

“So...scent-marking,” Stiles says.

Derek at least has the decency to look chagrined. “It...may be a thing after all?”


End file.
